The Brat Diaries

Affectionate Dominance as a Mental Health Support Supplement

"Will you please spank me?" I asked.

Normally, I'd playfully solicit a spanking with bratting. But I couldn't summon that spirited energy. My thoughts were tangled up inside my head, neurons flashing between one irrational scenario to the next. I needed to turn my brain off.

He gave me a pensive look. "Why?" he asked.

"Please." My voice cracked under his gaze.

His eyes consumed me, I could almost feel him in my head. He knew where I was mentally, he could always tell. We silently exchanged our understanding, and he took my hand and guided me over his knee.

I settled into the position, pulling a throw blanket off the edge of the couch and balling it up to rest my face against. He slid my pants and underwear down and started to spank me with his hand. I winced against the soft plush of the blanket as the sharp smacks landed rhythmically. He didn't hold back as he alternated cheeks, occasionally moving down to my thighs. Everytime I tried to focus on an irrational thought, the pain pulled me back into the moment. Forcing me to be present.

I lost track of time, and I didn't realize when I started to cry. But he didn't stop, he started to spank faster and harder. My body reacted to the pain, reaching back to block the hits, legs kicking. He pinned my legs between his and laced his fingers into mine, squeezing my hand in solidarity. Each time his hand collided with my flesh, the pain tugged on the tangled mess of thoughts inside my head, slowly unraveling them. I couldn't focus on any of those thoughts anymore, my anxiety was submitting to the meditation. My head, quiet again. My body, limp over his lap. My heart, full.

Eventually the spanks turned into gentle rubbing. He released my hand and guided me up so I was sitting on his knee, pulling me into his chest. He stroked my hair and landed kisses on my forehead until my ragged breaths started to calm.

"I want you to delete all the social media apps off your phone, and deactivate FetLife. For 3 days," he said.

I did not protest. I told him earlier in the week that I felt like I needed a screen detox. I was comforted to have the motivation to follow through.

After a few more moments, he stood me up and walked me to the kitchen. He poured me a glass of water and told me to drink it all. He had me do that twice more while he rummaged through the office, I had no clue what he was looking for. He stepped back into the kitchen, handing me an old sketchbook. I hadn't tried to draw in a long time.

He pushed my hair behind my ear and lifted my face up, keeping his grip on my chin to hold my gaze. "I expect to see some improvements by the time I get home from work today."

I smiled as he kissed me. This was just the type of distraction I needed, the challenge of learning a skill I haven't yet mastered.

"I also want you to get outside. Go for a run, or a long walk, do some yoga by the pond. Outside activity for an hour, minimum."

I agreed, relieved to have the tasks. I didn't usually need instructions to drink water, exercise, or enjoy my hobbies. But I was in a depressive state, and he used our D/s dynamic to expertly navigate my state of mind, nudging me into a healthy headspace.

It's been 3 days. The screen break was needed and I feel a lot better; we plan to implement them more often as a type of mental health maintenance.

---

Thank you for reading! Please vote if you enjoyed this story. I'm welcoming feedback and requests.

As a reminder, this dynamic is consensual and negotiated. If you are new to BDSM, regardless of your role (Dom, sub, switch, etc.), please make sure you practice SCC and RACK.

Safe, Sane, Consensual

Risk-Aware Consensual Kink

MY INBOX IS OPEN FOR ANYONE EXPERIENCING ABUSE OR UNSURE IF THEY ARE BEING ABUSED IN THEIR DYNAMIC. I will listen to you without judgement and will not offer advice unless you ask for it.